


Pining...or Not?

by LilLayneeLoo



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Clark Kent Needs a Hug, Clueless Clark Kent, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Idiots in Love, M/M, Protective Bruce Wayne, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24227191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilLayneeLoo/pseuds/LilLayneeLoo
Summary: The Justice League have noticed Batman is sulking, and feel sorry for him. He's clearly in love with Superman, but Clark already has a boyfriend: Bruce Wayne.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 25
Kudos: 650





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [Yuien12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuien12/gifts), [Trinket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trinket/gifts), [Shironecro24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shironecro24/gifts).



> I D E N T I T Y P O R N I S A S P I R A L . . .
> 
> ...and I have fallen face-first into it. I can't get me enough of it. Reading, writing, the whole deal. I really hope you enjoy this, because I enjoyed writing it. If you have any comments or ideas for future stories, I'd be stoked to hear from you.

Superman and Martian Manhunter walked into the lounge, having just arrived on the Watchtower via teleporters. Both of them were visibly exhausted.

Kalibak had, for some reason, returned to Metropolis, so Clark and J’onn had just spent the last 3 hours incapacitating him and assisting the government in escorting him to a more secure holding facility than Stryker’s Island.

“Welcome back,” Diana said, smiling from her seat at the table. J’onn mumbled in response and made his way toward his private quarters. Clark was tempted to do the same, however, he noticed that Diana was joined at the table by someone he was very relieved to see.

“Bruce,” he smiled. He stumbled toward his boyfriend who stood and wrapped him into a tight hug.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bruce said, then he pulled away and pressed a hand to his cheek. “Are you okay? That guy looked like he could deliver some nasty hits.”

“Yeah,” Clark said, nodding. “He can, but we got him. I’ve got a few bruises, but nothing too terrible.”

“Let me help you,” Bruce said. He turned back to the table. “Thank you for the coffee and the company, Diana. It was lovely to catch up.”

“It was, Bruce. You’re welcome up here anytime.” She responded with a smile.

Bruce took Clark’s hand and led him down the hall. He pressed his thumb to the screen and, given that Clark and Bruce had been involved for some time now, the security gave him clearance and unlocked Clark’s door. 

Clark started to pull at his costume, but Bruce grasped his hands.

“I’ve got it, Clark, you should sit down for a minute. You must be exhausted.”

Clark nodded, walking with Bruce over to his bed and sinking down. Bruce gently peeled Clark’s uniform from his chest and arms, removing his cape and boots as well. Once it was far enough down, Clark kicked the fabric away from him, leaving him only in his underwear. 

Bruce took in the bruises on Clark’s skin, wincing at the sight of them. Clark knew that Bruce _really_ hated seeing him injured; considering that in Bruce’s eyes, Clark was the physical manifestation of all things good and pure, he knew that some part of him wished that Superman didn’t have to fight all the time. Bruce didn’t think humanity was _worthy_ of Superman’s protection, which was ironic, considering that Bruce himself was only a man. 

_Reminds me of someone else,_ Clark thought. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he thought about Batman, and silently hoped that the other hero hadn’t seen that Bruce was on the Watchtower. 

Batman had no problem telling anyone who would listen _how annoying_ he found Bruce Wayne. He would stomp around anytime anyone talked about him, huffing and sighing like he would pretty much rather die than talk about him. It was no wonder nobody ever saw them in the same room together. Batman’s hatred for Bruce Wayne ran _deep_.

His behavior had only escalated when Bruce and Clark started dating. Clark had been incredibly happy when he first started talking to Bruce, and way too absorbed in that happiness to notice that he seemed to feel less and less need to talk to his long-time friend.

Diana had been the first one to point it out to Clark, another time that Bruce had come to visit him on the Watchtower. They had been particularly touchy-feely, Bruce actually resolving to sit in Clark’s lap in front of _everyone_ , ignoring several perfectly good and perfectly appropriate chairs. Shortly after Bruce had left for the evening, Batman came into the room. 

His footfalls had been heavy, his sulk more pronounced than usual as he made himself a cup of coffee and returned to his quarters. Clark was confused as he looked around. Most of the other league members had been looking at Batman, but as he left, they diverted their attention to _him_.

Clark had sat sheepishly for a few moments before everyone resumed their own activity. He turned to Diana.

“What was that about? Why was everyone staring at me?”

Diana had given him a blank stare, as if expecting him to laugh and tell her he was kidding. After a moment, she spoke.

“You’re kidding. You don’t know?”

Clark shook his head.

“Don’t know what?” 

Diana sighed and put down her own coffee, leaning closer to Clark and adjusting her voice to a whisper.

“Batman is _in love with you_ ,” she said, softly. “That’s partially why he hates Bruce Wayne so much.”

Clark stared at her in disbelief.

“Wait, what?”

Diana nodded.

“Well, it’s not like he’s flat out told anyone, but it’s _really obvious_. He’s most protective of _you_ of all people, the _invulnerable_ one. When it’s his shift in the monitor room, his focus is mostly on _you_. When he’s going to take a single person with him on a mission, it’s always _you_. His quarters are right next to _yours_ , in a building that _he_ _designed_. That wasn’t an accident.”

“It could have been,” Clark said. “Or it could just be the fact that we’re friends.”

“Okay,” Diana said. “Yeah, but how do you explain the pining then?”

“The pining?”

“You started dating Bruce, Bruce started to come around here more. It’s common knowledge that Batman doesn’t like Bruce Wayne, yes, but his hatred increased ten-fold as soon as you were spending more time with Bruce than with _him_ . He started moping _all the time_ . He _literally_ listens to sad music while he’s working out, which I know you know about because we’ve heard it in the gym before.”

“Okay...but he also has a troubled past,” Clark said. “It’s no secret that Batman has had a dark life, so I just always assumed the sad music and moping could be attributed to long-term emotional damage.”

“It _can be_ attributed to that,” Diana said. “That’s the point. It’s just not in the way that you think. Batman has been so obviously smitten with you for _years_ , Clark. When we all thought you were dead, he was a _mess_ . He didn’t patrol, he wouldn’t eat, he would hardly come out of his room and only did when he was going to visit your memorial. He refused to modify the security to your room, wouldn’t let anyone go in to pack up your stuff, but he was seen _on several occasions_ going in there himself.”

Clark had been quiet for a moment.

“I didn’t know it affected him like that,” he said. His mind was rapidly flashing back to various interactions between him and Batman, and the more he thought about it, the more he came to understand that Diana was likely right. “Does everyone know about this but me?”

“Pretty much,” she said, looking around the room. “I’m not telling you this because I think you should break up with Bruce or anything. I just think you should be mindful about how up close and personal you get with him while you are on the Watchtower.”

A gasp from Bruce brought Clark’s thoughts back to the present day. 

“He cut you!” Bruce cried, now behind Clark and looking at his bare back. Just below his left shoulder, a thick laceration burned in Clark’s skin. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I don’t think it’s too bad though, is it?”

Bruce contemplated for a second. Clark could feel his gentle fingers caressing his spine, and chills went through his body.

“Sorry,” Bruce said, moving his hands away. “We’ll have to clean it up first, to know for sure, but you might need stitches if you want this to heal as fast as your other wounds. I’ll ask Diana.”

Clark nodded.

“Okay, can you clean it up for me though?” he asked, thinking of Batman. “I’m just so tired, I would like to spend as little time as possible in the med bay. 

“Of course,” Bruce said. “Although, I do have a meeting relatively soon. I’ll probably have to head back down to Gotham as soon as I’ve cleaned you up. You won’t have your boyfriend’s moral support for the actual stitches.”

“A meeting at eight o’clock at night?” Clark chuckled. “Well, I guess, I’ll be okay.”

Twenty minutes later, Clark was sitting on the edge of one of the cots. Bruce had called Diana while Clark was getting dressed, just before giving him a kiss goodbye and leaving the Watchtower. Now Clark just had to wait for her to make her way down.

Batman, however, beat her to it.

“I heard you took some hits,” he said, gruffly. “Those are some nasty bruises.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Clark said, looking up at his friend and teammate. “Kalibak also got me with a blade. Left shoulder.”

Silently, Batman made his way around the cot until he was able to look at Clark’s back. 

“I already cleaned it up,” Clark said, blushing slightly. “There was a lot of blood.”

“You mean Bruce Wayne cleaned it up for you,” Batman growled. “Did a sloppy job, too.”

Clark bit his lip. He wanted to defend Bruce, considering the fact that he wasn’t trained medically whatsoever, but he was also mindful of Batman’s feelings.

“Who’s stitching you up?” He said, a gloved hand pulling painfully at the edge of his cut. “It’s pretty deep, you definitely need it.”

“Diana’s supposed to come down,” Clark said. “I thought she’d be here by now.”

“I’ll do it,” Batman sighed. “She should be here by now. Is she aware of how serious this wound is?”

“I...I don’t know,” Clark said. “Bruce called her, not me.”

“Of fucking course,” Batman said. “Well, you need to be stitched, so I’m just going to do it.”

“Okay,” Clark said, quietly. He heard the rustling of fabric, and black gloves were placed next to him. Batman’s hands were soft and warm as he touched Clark’s back, examining the wound more closely.

“Three inches across, half an inch deep,” he murmured. “Fairly straight cut. Mattress sutures should do.”

Clark listened as Batman busied himself prepping supplies. He sort of hoped that Diana would interrupt and take over, but she was still nowhere in sight.

He felt heat on his back as Batman set up the red solar lamp that would allow him to stitch Clark’s Kryptonian skin, followed moments later by a sharp pinch as the needle drove in. Clark twitched slightly, and Batman growled.

“Hold still, Clark,” he said. “Or it’s going to hurt more.”

“I’m sorry,” Clark murmured, pinching his eyes shut. “So… how’s Robin?”

“He’s fine,” Batman answered plainly. “We don’t have to talk, though, Clark, if you don’t want to.”

The pang of guilt hit Clark again, hurting him more than the stitching did.

“I do want to talk, B,” he said. “We don’t talk much anymore.”

At that moment, Diana came through the door. She stopped when she saw that Batman was already stitching Clark up. She was going to leave, but Clark’s eyes widened desperately.

“That’s because of Wayne,” Batman said, tying off the second suture. Clark felt the needle pierce his skin again and winced, the frustration of talking about Bruce apparently aggravating Batman to the point that he was a little less gentle.

Diana walked over to the cot and stood next to Batman, watching his nimble fingers as they worked.

“Ouch,” Diana said. “That’s a pretty nasty cut, Clark.”

“Yes it is,” Batman said. Clark couldn’t see, but he was ninety-nine percent sure that he was glaring at Diana. “It should already be stitched by now.”

“I was called away, Clark,” she said. “I’m sorry. I came as soon as I could.”

“Let me guess,” Batman muttered. “Steve?”

“No, actually,” Diana said, through gritted teeth. “It was Shayera. She needed some technical assistance before she took off.”

“She could have called me,” Batman said.

“Clark could have called you too,” Diana shot back. Clark blushed as an awkward silence plagued the three of them. Diana gave Clark an apologetic look, then exited the med bay.

Batman continued in silence. Clark noticed that as soon as Diana had left, the pinch of the needle was a lot more gentle. 

After another ten minutes or so, Bruce flicked off the sun lamp.

“Done,” he said, quietly. “I don’t know who else knows a mattress stitch, so I’ll take them out in a few days. Have Bruce keep an eye on them.”

“I will,” Clark said. “Thank you. Really.”

“You’re welcome,” Batman said, then he paused. “Really.”

They both chuckled to themselves as Batman replaced his gloves and exited the med bay. Clark stayed perched on the edge of the cot, thinking. He still felt a sort of nervousness in his chest, residual guilt from loving Bruce. He hadn’t known that Batman had feelings for him when he first started dating Bruce. He hadn’t known how much it would hurt Batman when he first started bringing Bruce around to the Watchtower. 

But if he had, would it have changed anything?

The nervous feeling intensified in his chest. _Yes,_ Clark thought. _It would have._

If Clark had known that Batman had feelings for him _before_ he met Bruce, he wouldn’t have been emotionally available to begin their relationship. Clark had felt _something_ for his best friend for a very long time, but he had been too afraid to put it into words. He felt ashamed, as if the league and _Batman himself_ would have shunned him for thinking of one of them as more than a friend or colleague.

When he met Bruce; that was the first time he was able to imagine himself with someone other than Batman. Bruce was charming, funny, sweet, and despite what the media seemed to think, incredibly intelligent. He had a ton of money, but Clark admired that he was a philanthropist. Unlike some celebrities, Bruce donated money because he cared about the causes he was donating to, not because he felt it made him look good, and he always followed up with the causes to see what his money had funded. He invested more than just his family’s fortune into charity, and Clark had always been impressed by that.

Clark hadn’t intended on telling Bruce immediately of his secret identity, but he found that he so easily trusted the man and hated lying to him. Bruce had been incredibly gracious of his admittance and continuously supported him as Superman, even if he disliked that Clark was often in danger. Clark couldn’t have asked for a more supportive partner.

This was why his predicament was so hard. Clark knew that, deep down, he wasn’t entirely over Batman. He didn’t necessarily harbor romantic feelings for him anymore, but he still cared _very_ much for his friend. It hurt him to know that being around him with Bruce was hurting Batman.

Clark ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t going to break up with Bruce; not a chance. He loved him and Bruce made him happy, but he wanted to spare Batman any unnecessary heartache.

Clark stepped down off of the cot and headed for the exit. He took the elevator back up to his quarters, and unlocked the door. Once he was inside, he grabbed his cell phone and texted Bruce.

_Hey, are you still in your meeting?_

Once he had sent it, he walked over to his private bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror and twisted so that he could see the cut on his shoulder. It was a thick and dark laceration; each individual stitch that Batman had sewn was perfectly straight across and pulled flush with his skin. Clark couldn’t help but appreciate his workmanship, the obvious care that had gone into sealing Clark’s wound.

That’s why Clark was going to talk to Bruce. He wasn’t sure how he was going to phrase it, but he needed to lessen the frequency that Bruce came up to the Watchtower. He was going to have to make it very clear that it wasn’t anything that Bruce had done, but that the distance was solely for Batman’s sake. He hoped that Bruce would understand.

His phone buzzed.

_Just got out. Everything alright?_

He smiled and texted again, collecting a few things and changing back into his costume. Then he headed out towards the teleporters.

_Yes. I’m coming to see you._

The trip to Gotham was efficient. Clark found himself in the Hall of Justice within a few minutes, and exited the building. He checked the time and looked around, then, when he saw the coast was clear, he took off into the evening sky. 

He knocked on the glass of Bruce’s office, as he usually did. Bruce looked up from his desk, smiling, and stood to come and let him in. Clark touched down softly on the carpeted floor, then pressed a kiss to Bruce’s lips. 

“Hey, handsome,” Bruce said, wrapping his arms around Clark’s neck. “What’s a hero like you want from a guy like me at this hour?”

“ _Everything_ ,” Clark said, flirtatiously. Clark gently patted Bruce’s ass as he walked away. Bruce laughed.

“Well then,” he said. “That’s very forward of you.”

As Bruce sat back down at his desk, Clark took one of the chairs across from him. The evening breeze filled Bruce’s office with fresh, cool air.

“I was actually just hoping we could talk,” Clark said. Bruce made a funny face, and leaned forward onto his desk.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” he said. “Is everything okay?”

“It is with me,” Clark said, slowly. “And it is with us, I think. But it’s not with Batman.”

Bruce looked confused.

“Oh?” he asked. “How so?”

Clark took a deep breath.

“So not that long after we started dating, Diana confronted me about something.”

Clark was fiddling with the sleeves of his costume.

“She told me that Batman...was in love with me.”

Bruce didn’t look near as surprised as Clark had expected, in fact, he didn’t really look surprised at all.

“Well, yeah,” Bruce said. “It’s written all over his face.” He paused. “Well, what you can see of it, anyway.”

“You knew?” Clark asked.

“Yep,” Bruce replied.

“Huh,” Clark said. “I didn’t even know you had actually met him.”

Bruce cleared his throat, a small blush on his face. Clark’s mind was working too quickly to take notice.

“Briefly,” Bruce said. “Very briefly.”

“Well,” Clark continued. “Apparently the whole league knows it. Diana says that when you started coming around, Batman started to behave more...hostile towards, well, everyone.”

“Okay,” Bruce said, nodding. “I can see that.”

“She says he’s pining for me; that it really hurts him every time you come up to the Watchtower with me. I love you, and I love when you come and surprise me and stuff, but he’s my best friend,” Clark said, his face falling. “It hurts me to know that I’m hurting him.”

“I don’t think that you’re hurting him,” Bruce said, quietly. “He’s probably just getting old or something.” 

“Bruce,” Clark said, desperately. “You don’t know him like I do… Batman… he bottles things up. It’s like he feels this responsibility to be strong all of the time; he won’t let himself hurt outwardly, so he just gets angry. He’s kind of always been that way. Once Diana pointed out that it’s kind of been worse recently, I started noticing it too.”

Bruce nodded, not saying anything.

“You called Diana to stitch me up today, which is fine, but Batman came down before she got there. He started stitching me up instead. I tried to talk to him about Robin, and he _actually_ told me that we didn’t have to talk, as if he _genuinely_ thought I just didn’t want to hear from him anymore...and when I asked him, he blamed you.”

“Of course he did,” Bruce said, covering his face with his hands.

“I don’t think he meant it like he was irrationally blaming all of his problems on you, although he doesn’t seem to be your biggest fan. I think he meant that our relationship is coming between my friendship with him, and the more I think about it, the more I realize that it kind of is.”

Bruce didn’t say anything, just kept staring at the desk.

“I’m not complaining about our relationship, Bruce. I love you, and I want to be with you. But I just think that we should be a little more mindful of how much time we spend together at the Watchtower, because I care deeply about Batman as well.”

Bruce stared at the desk for a few more seconds, then tipped his head back up.

“Clark…” he started, but was cut off by a siren blaring from outside Bruce’s open window. 

Clark sat up straighter, listening for the cause of the sirens.

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” he said, standing up. “It’s a fire at the Heritage Museum, I should go and make sure that everyone is okay. I’ll have to go up to the tower to report it, but then I’ll come home and we can finish this conversation.”

Bruce nodded. Clark felt terrible as he kissed him goodbye, but he could hear shouting coming from the burning building.

Clark activated the suit’s comlink and checked in with Wally, who was on monitor duty.

“Hey, Wally,” Clark said. “I’m already in Gotham, so can you let Batman know that I can handle the fire at GNHM?”

“Sounds good, Clark,” Wally said. “I’ll pass that on. Check in if you need assistance.”

“Got it,” Clark said. He deactivated the link and dropped his altitude. Thick billows of smoke became visible, and he was able to easily locate the museum.

Clark made quick work of evacuating the building, then flew just above the fire and quite literally blew it out. The thick smoke began to dissipate, replaced by residual steam. When Clark had spoken with a few of the bystanders as well as the first responders, he made his way back to the Hall of Justice, and used the teleporter to travel to the Watchtower. 

Nobody was sitting in the lounge when he arrived, which was no surprise given that it was now close to midnight. Clark sighed, realizing that Bruce would likely be asleep by the time he made his way back to Gotham. 

He headed up to the observation deck, where he found Wally.

“I got a hold of Batman,” Wally said. “He says thanks.”

“Good,” Clark said, walking to the control panel. He pressed a few buttons and began typing out what had happened. It only took him a few minutes. 

“Good night, Wally,” he said, as he left the room. He pulled out his cellphone and saw he had a text from Bruce.

_It’s late, you can just stay on the watchtower tonight. Love you._

Clark sighed. As much as he wanted to see Bruce and to finish their conversation, he knew his boyfriend probably needed some space. His intentions were good, but he had essentially just told Bruce that he didn’t want to see him as often because of another man.

He was kicking himself as he walked up the hall toward his quarters. It was stupid, in retrospect. Clark had every right to be happy, and Batman was a grown man. If he couldn’t get over his feelings for Clark, then maybe that was his problem. Was Clark supposed to sacrifice his own happiness, just to spare Batman’s feelings?

He felt overwhelmed as he opened the door to his room, rubbing his eyes and sighing loudly.

“Rough night?” A deep husky voice sounded from behind him, making him jump.

“Jesus, Batman,” Clark said, turning around. He was just casually draped over the couch in full uniform, fiddling with a batarang.

“I’m just Batman, Clark,” he said, smiling maliciously. “Nothing god-like about me.”

“Oh, shut up,” Clark said, scoffing playfully. “What are you doing in my room? And, how the hell did you get in here? Our rooms are protected with biometrics.”

Batman didn’t say anything, but gestured for Clark to come and sit with him. He did.

“I wanted to talk to you, Clark,” Batman said, running his gloved hands along the sharp edge of the batarang. “I have something that I have to confess.”

Clark’s breath hitched in his throat. He really didn’t want to have this conversation tonight, especially considering that he and Bruce weren’t on the best terms. 

“For a few years now-”

“I know you love me, Batman,” Clark blurted out. He didn’t even want to hear his friend say it. He wanted to spare him, and himself, from the awkwardness. “And I just… you know I’m with Bruce. You know that I’m taken, so please, just save us both the trouble…”

“Can you just listen? Christ, Clark…” Batman said. He pulled off his gloves and laid them on the coffee table, throwing the batarang next to them. He clicked a few buckles on his armor, and pulled off his chest plate. Then he turned back to Clark. “Take off my cowl.”

“What?” Clark asked. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Batman said, nodding. “Take it off. A long time ago, I promised myself that the only way I would _ever_ tell anyone about my secret identity would be if _they_ unmasked _me._ So do it. Take off the cowl. Unmask me, and see who I really am.”

Clark stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re tricking me, right? This is some kind of joke?”

“God dammit, Clark,” he growled. “Take it off of me. Please.”

Clark nodded, his eyes flicking once more over the white lenses as if looking for hesitation in the eyes that he couldn’t even see. He raised his hands, gripping the fabric at the bottom of the cowl nervously. “Are you…”

“Clark.”

“Okay!” 

Clark exhaled, and pulled the material up over Batman’s face. Slowly, lips and nose came into view. Clark gasped as his eyes met familiar blue ones.

“Bruce?” he asked, dumbfounded. “You...you’re...I…”

“For a few years now,” Bruce started again, taking the empty cowl from Clark’s hands and laying it next to his gloves. “I have loved you, yes, more than I imagined I could ever love someone. When I first met you, it was as Superman. I saw you as this infinitely powerful being from another world entirely; I saw how your actions had made your city see you as a beacon of hope, of justice… you were every bit the hero I wished I had the strength to be.”

Clark was still staring at him, so Bruce looked down and grasped Clark’s hands in his own.

“My past...my life...none of it was easy, and it was refreshing to see that someone else in the world had had their entire world thrown upside down, even if it was when you were just a tiny baby…”

He squeezed gently.

“I saw you; where you came from, where you’d been, and where you were going, and I just _admired_ you at first...but we somehow ended up being close friends. You’re the closest friend I’ve ever had, and when I started to feel these new and potentially problematic feelings for you, I was scared. I didn’t know what I was feeling, really, I’d never been in love with anyone before.”

Clark squeezed back, still silent.

“So I hid them,” Bruce continued. “Or at least I tried, but apparently it didn’t work. You never treated me differently because of it, so I thought it was one of two things: you either had no idea that I had feelings for you, or you knew and didn’t want to say anything. Then one day I overheard Wally and Shayera talking in the lounge. They didn’t know I was behind them, and were talking about how obvious I was about it; how it was so clear that I was pining for Superman.”

He looked away from Clark.

“Then, I felt ashamed. How could I have let myself not only fall for you, but make it so obvious that I had become the subject of gossip on the Watchtower? I started to try harder, but then… well I guess someone somewhere was on my side, because you came into my life as _Clark_ , instead of Superman.”

Clark nodded.

“And you...you didn’t have any predispositions about me; about my darkness, my trauma, my tendency to be too gruff with others… I came into your life as _Bruce_ , instead of Batman, and somehow, for some reason, things were different. I wasn’t afraid of the league saying anything when I was Bruce. I could kiss you and hold you and love you in the open without being gossiped about.”

Bruce took one hand away from Clark and rubbed his face.

“I was naive though,” he continued. “I thought that once you were taken, the rumors about Batman’s feelings would just _go away_ , but they didn’t. They intensified. I thought so many times about telling everyone who I was, just so they would _stop_. I don’t like being talked about, being investigated and watched. I’m a hypocrite in that regard.”

Bruce chuckled to himself. Clark’s eyes were full of emotion.  
  


“But I could never do it. I was scared of a few things; the primary one being that your feelings for me would change. I was afraid that unmasking Batman would just put a mask on Bruce--that you would only see me for the darkness I am.”

“I love you for the darkness you are,” Clark said quietly. “I loved you when I only knew you as Batman, Bruce. For years and years…”

“I see that now, Clark,” Bruce said. “I saw it the moment you asked me to stop coming to the Watchtower… I realized that you cared deeply about Bruce Wayne _and_ you cared deeply about Batman. I realized that no matter who I am, when I’m with you, I’m _loved_.”

“You are,” Clark said, a tear falling from his eye. “You are _so_ loved.”

Bruce looked back into Clark’s eyes, a tear of his own falling.

“I’m so sorry,” Bruce said. “I’m sorry I kept this from you. I’m sorry I made you feel guilty for loving me… I can’t explain why I did it, pretended that Batman was upset by your relationship with Bruce... except that I was scared. Scared of what telling everyone would mean; what telling _you_ would mean.”

Bruce squeezed Clark’s hands again. 

“But I’m not scared anymore, Clark. I want to give myself to you. Every single part of me, the good and the bad.”

Clark smiled softly.

“You know,” he said. “There’s a lot more good in you than you give yourself credit for. I see that good in both Bruce _and_ Batman, whether there’s a cape and a cowl or not.”

“So, are you angry with me?” Bruce asked. “You’re more than allowed to be angry with me.”

“I’m not,” Clark said. “My father was a firm believer that there was a right time for me to reveal my powers to the world, and I maintain that belief.”

“This is just my name, Clark,” Bruce smiled softly. “It’s nothing close to the scale of your powers.”

Clark hummed, then pressed his hand against Bruce’s heart.

“This...your heart; your _humanity_ ...that’s your power, Bruce,” Clark said. “Your power is the light inside you that shines through the darkness around you. This world has dealt you a hand that most men would have folded by this point...but you..you haven’t. You’ve harnessed _everything_ that has happened to you, and you use it to fuel you. You let it motivate you to do good _for the world_ , when it doesn’t deserve it.”

“That’s...that’s what I always say about you,” Bruce said. “You do good for a world that’s tried to get rid of you over and over…”

“You told me you admired me, Bruce,” Clark said. “Well, I admire you too. We’re not as different as everyone seems to think. Our methods? They differ; but underneath it all, you’re just as much a hero as I am.”

Bruce’s eyes were watering as he wrapped his arms around Clark. Clark pulled him closer, shifting their bodies until he was essentially cradling Bruce.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“And I love you,” Bruce whispered back.

“You don’t have to tell the league, Bruce,” Clark said, pulling away after a few minutes. “I can shut them down. Batman and Superman were friends before this; I could just say I talked with you and that you said you don’t feel that way anymore.”

“No, Clark,” Bruce said, smiling softly. “Thank you, but I kind of feel that I owe it to them to explain. I’ve kind of been hanging around them all a lot lately without them knowing it...it’s almost like spying.”

Clark laughed.

“Yeah,” he said. “It kind of is. They probably won’t like that very much.”

“Ugh,” Bruce groaned, laying his head in his hands. 

“So, I’m just realizing,” Clark said, suddenly. “You called Diana to tell her to come stitch my shoulder, left me, then came back 5 minutes later in the batsuit and stitched me up.”

“Yes,” Bruce said, nodding.

“And then you got mad at Diana for it.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows.

“Whether or not I knew that I was going to arrive before her does not excuse the fact that she took almost fifteen minutes to come and tend to your injuries. In case you haven’t already noticed, I place a rather high value on your safety.”

Clark was still chuckling. “We’ll see if Diana feels the same.”

Bruce ran a hand through his hair and collapsed into Clark’s side, cuddling up to him.

“Whenever you’re ready to tell them, Bruce,” Clark said. “I’ll be with you. Tomorrow, a week from now, a year from now, never, I will always be with you.”

“Thank you, Clark,” Bruce replied. “I feel so much better knowing that you know, now, instead of trying to keep this a secret from you.”

“I feel better too. This explains why I fell in love with _two_ different men so close together,” Clark laughed. “They were actually just the same guy.” 

Bruce looked up and kissed him, then suppressed a large yawn.

“Sleepy?” Clark asked, tipping Bruce’s chin up and meeting his gaze.

“Very,” Bruce replied. “Bed?”

Clark smiled.

“Sounds great.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman reveals his identity to the league.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is for Benjirobotan, Yuien12, Trinket, and Shironecro24, who requested a second part. I hope this delivers. It was fun to write!
> 
> Thank you for your feedback. I love hearing from you guys.

“Today,” Bruce said, running a towel through his wet hair. “I want to tell them today.”

Clark half sat up in bed, slowly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He glanced at the clock, which read seven in the morning.

“Hmmm?” He mumbled, squinting at Bruce. His curls were mostly flattened against the side of his head, save for the tousle that usually hung in his eyes. It was sticking almost straight up, and Bruce chuckled.

“You’re adorable, Clark,” he said, walking over to the wardrobe. “Blue or...blue?” 

He held up two of Clark’s suits, both a very similar shade of blue. Clark snorted and laid back down.

“I guess I’ll go with blue,” he said, laughing. “You make fun of me, but all of your suits are black.”

“That’s not true,” Bruce said, replacing one of the blue suits with a dark one of his own. “This one is actually  _ charcoal _ .”

“Well excuse me!” Clark said, flopping his hand down and propping himself up on an elbow. “Black, charcoal, same difference.”

Bruce pulled a red tie from the wardrobe as well, throwing it at Clark with a smile. He began to get dressed.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked. Clark rubbed his eyes again and groaned as he sat up. “About telling the League?”

Clark nodded, wrapping himself in the white shirt Bruce had given him. “Are you sure you’re ready, Bruce?”

Bruce was buttoning his own shirt and paused for a moment to think.

“I was awake most of last night thinking about it,” he said, shaking his head. “I think I should just get it over with. They’re not going to be happy if I tell them today or a month from now. I’m obviously still around the tower as both Batman and Bruce, so I still feel like I’m spying…”

“You totally are,” Clark said, pushing himself to his feet and pulling on his pants. “How many of them have complained  _ about  _ you,  _ to  _ you, without even knowing?”

Bruce smirked at first, then cocked his head. 

“Actually, probably all of them,” he said. “Including you.”

Clark smiled and shrugged.

“That’s what you get for not telling me, Batman,” he said, playfully. “Seriously though, what have they said to you?”

“Just the other day,” Bruce smirked. “Wally called Batman a “huge douchebag with a batarang up his ass” in front of Bruce, and even Diana agreed that “Batman could be a little testy sometimes.”

“That’s actually more mild than I imagined it might have been,” Clark laughed.

“It goes the other way though too,” Bruce said. “You’d be surprised how much Batman has overheard about Bruce too.”

“Really?” Clark asked, tying his shoes. “I didn’t think they really had any complaints about you.”

“Oh,” Bruce smirked. “Most of them aren’t complaints.”

Clark froze.

“No way!” he said.

“Please tell me Superman will be bringing Wayne around more often now,” Bruce said, in a surprisingly good impression of Shayera. “That man is  _ fine _ .”

“Oh my god,” Clark said, laughing.

“It gets better,” Bruce said, grinning. “Then Wally said, ‘yeah, I don’t swing that way, but I would watch  _ and  _ enjoy Clark and Bruce’s sex tape.”

Clark blushed deeply, but laughed aloud again, dropping back onto the bed and covering his face with his hands.

“Bruce...they are  _ all _ going to be mortified when you tell them!”

“When  _ we  _ tell them,” Bruce said. “I am  _ not _ going through this alone.”

“Right,” Clark said, sitting back up with a wide grin still plastered on his face. “Are you going to call a meeting tonight, then?”

Bruce nodded.

‘I think so,” Bruce said. “Actually, I was kind of hoping you would do it. They’re less nervous about meeting with you, so they won’t  _ already _ be on the defensive when we tell them.”

“Okay,” Clark said, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend. “I’ll send out a message. We’ve gotta get going, Bruce, if we want to be down by eight.”

Bruce finished tying his shoes, stood, and reached a hand out to Clark.

The Watchtower was empty, given the time of day. Diana, J’onn, and Shayera were likely still in their personal quarters, if on the tower at all, and Wally and John were presumably tending to their own day jobs. They each made a cup of coffee to go, then headed up to the main deck.

Bruce pressed a kiss to Clark’s cheek.

“I have to be in Metropolis around 4 today,” he said. “Do you think that if I came in a little early White would let me steal you away for a trip to Bessalo’s?”

“Ooh,” Clark smiled. “Apple pie. Well, considering that you’re Perry’s boss, he probably wouldn’t say no.”

Bruce smiled.

“Very true. There are perks to owning the company your boyfriend works for. I’ll call him. Alfred will be there to pick you up at one, if that works. We can talk about tonight.”

“Sounds great,” Clark said, kissing Bruce’s cheek in return. Then he winked, stepping towards the teleporter. “I’d kiss you on the lips, but I don’t want to hurt Batman’s feelings.”

Bruce scoffed at him and stepped into his own.

\-----

In his usual timely manner, Alfred pulled up to the curb in front of the Daily Planet at two minutes to one. Clark was already waiting, Perry having begrudgingly dismissed him early enough that he could be downstairs in time for Bruce.

As usual, Clark tried the handle on the front door of the car and, as usual, found that it was locked. He was uncomfortable with the whole “chauffeur” thing, but unfortunately for him Alfred was so stuck in his traditional ways that he always insisted Clark sit in the back.

“Good afternoon, Alfred,” he said, ducking into the car.

“Good afternoon, Master Clark,” Alfred said, nodding politely. “I trust that the day finds you well.”

They made small talk as Alfred drove across New Troy. Alfred asked about Martha and Jonathan, and Clark asked about Dick and Tim. They talked about traffic in Metropolis compared to Gotham, and Alfred noted that he ‘much preferred the brightness and cleanliness’ of Clark’s home. Clark was unsure if Bruce had shared his plan with Alfred, so he refrained from saying anything about the reveal until they pulled up to Bessalo’s. Alfred brought it up.

“Master Clark, might I ask you a favor?” 

“Of course, Alfred,” Clark said. “How can I help?”

Alfred’s brow furrowed and he drew his hands together in his lap.

“This evening, when Master Bruce informs your… colleagues of his identity, could you please ensure that he is not, how shall I say it...attacked? Injured?”

“So he did tell you, then,” Clark said, smiling. “I will make sure, Alfred. I don’t think the league would try to pull anything though.”

“Oh I don’t necessarily either,” Alfred said. “But I  _ am _ well aware that Master Bruce is not the  _ friendliest _ at times, especially when it comes to pushing his teammates to be the best they can be. I fear that he often comes across as  _ cold _ .”

“He does,” Clark said, matter-of-factly. “He definitely does, and I’m sure some of them will have a few things to say about it. I will be right next to him though, Alfred, so if anyone is dumb enough to try something, I’ll stop them.”

“Thank you, Master Clark,” Alfred said, nodding again. “Do enjoy your lunch. Master Bruce will page me when you’ve finished, and I will meet you here to return you to the Daily Planet.”

“Thank you for the ride,” Clark smiled, exiting the car. Bruce was nowhere to be seen, so Clark assumed he was already inside. A quick chat with the hostess, and Clark was being led to a secluded table in the back corner of the restaurant.

Bruce stood and pressed a firm kiss to Clark’s lips.

“Hi,” Clark blushed.

“Hi,” Bruce said, reaching to pull out Clark’s chair. Clark often mused that Bruce had clearly been educated by Alfred on chivalry, given the amount of times he had opened doors and pulled out chairs for his boyfriend. Clark found it incredibly endearing.

They ordered their drinks and food, chatting casually about their mornings with their fingers laced loosely together over the table.  Once the waiter had left them alone, Bruce broached the subject of the meeting.

“So, did you send out a message?”

Clark nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “I just asked if they would come up to the Watchtower so that we could all talk about a new development in the mission.”

“Vague enough, I suppose,” Bruce said. “Without actually lying. My identity is a development, and you could say that ‘the mission’ just refers to the league in general.”

Clark smiled.

“Exactly. I’m good with words.”

“I should hope so, Mr.  _ Clark Kent, Daily Planet.” _

Clark rolled his eyes as the waiter appeared with their food. He smiled at Bruce, waiting patiently as his boyfriend engaged in friendly banter with him. When he had stepped away, Clark brought up the meeting again.

“So what do you think you’re going to say?” he asked, taking a bite of his food. It was, unsurprisingly, delicious. Bruce knew how to pick a restaurant, and Bessalo’s had become one of their favorites.

Bruce frowned, chewing his own food thoughtfully.

“I don’t think I’m going to say anything, actually,” he said. “I think I’m just going to casually take off the cowl.”

“Oh god,” Clark said, laughing. “That’s appropriate I guess. Did you know you have a flair for the dramatic? Given the bat costume and all, now coupled with a spotlight worthy  _ reveal _ …”

Bruce glared at Clark, a look that would have left any other league member feeling like a small child being put in time-out. Clark had gotten used to it though, so he returned it with a mischievous grin.

“I am not dramatic,” Bruce said. “I just think it would be better for them to see it instead of hearing it. Also, you know I’m not the best when it comes to sharing personal information… revealing would be easier than explaining.”

“You’re going to have to explain some things, at least,” Clark said. “But okay, I can see wanting to get the initial news out without a big speech.”

They finished their lunches, and Bruce ordered Clark a slice of pie to go. Bruce decided he had time to accompany Clark back to the Planet before heading to his meeting, so they walked out to greet Alfred hand in hand.

“Master Bruce, Master Clark,” Alfred nodded when they had settled in the back. “I hope you had an enjoyable outing.”

“We did, Alfred, thank you,” Clark said smiling. 

“You really have to let me take you there, Alfred,” Bruce said. “The food is amazing, and I really think you’d-”

“Master Bruce,” Alfred said. “We have been over this. It would be inappropriate for me to join you for a public outing, given my position as your butler.”

Bruce scoffed and turned to Clark.

“The man raised me, but he still seems to think I only consider him a butler.”

Clark chuckled at Bruce’s exasperation and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Alfred was smiling gently as well.

\-----

The rest of Clark’s afternoon dragged by. Perry had assigned him a stats piece as soon as he returned, which he suspected was payback for his lunch. They were everyone’s least favorite, and Perry rarely assigned them to him because of his reputation for writing Pulitzer-worthy articles. Apparently Perry felt he deserved a little bit of torture.

Stats would have been boring on a regular day, but Clark found it especially difficult to concentrate knowing that their impending conversation with the league had the potential to change everything. 

Bruce and he hadn’t really discussed that possibility, neither of them wanting to be the one to suggest it. Bruce had joked about ‘spying’ on the other league members, but Clark was worried he didn’t understand the extent of that sort of betrayal. 

At the same time, he knew that a few of them had rather loose lips in terms of gossip, and Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, revealed as the one suiting up as the Batman every night was the hottest that gossip got.

Bruce had needed to establish a foundation of trust with everyone in the league, and on their end, Clark supposed they had delivered. He was just afraid that the announcement would destroy the trust the league had in Bruce, and in Batman.

That was why, when eight o’clock rolled around, Clark was waiting at the table with bated breath. 

Bruce was worse than him, much to Clark’s surprise. He had, in a way, assumed that Bruce would tackle this head on with the attitude of ‘if they don’t like it, they can stick it,’ but the bounce of Bruce’s knee told Clark that wasn’t the case.

Maybe Bruce  _ did  _ understand the severity of the situation.

Once the other five of them had piled into the room, cracking jokes and bantering about the possible developments, Superman and Batman stood and walked to the front of the room. 

Clark cleared his throat, and everyone went quiet.

“Sorry for the last minute meeting,” he said. “Batman and I decided that it was important to tell you this sooner, rather than later. We are both of the opinion that the piece of information we are going to give you should have been given a long time ago.”

Clark lost their gazes for a few moments, each of them looking around at the others with the same confused expression. Wally was the first to speak.

“Okay…” he said. “You’re kind of scaring me, Supes. What’s this piece of information?”

Bruce turned to face Clark, who smiled and nodded encouragingly.

“Me,” he said, staring intently at his boyfriend through the white lenses. “Go ahead, Clark.”

Clark reached up and pulled the cowl off, just as he had in his quarters. He saw a flash of fear and regret in Bruce’s eyes, but it was too late to turn back. Instead, he turned toward the table.

Nobody said anything at first. Clark’s eyes were darting back and forth between all of them, trying to gauge their reactions. Bruce looked at Clark, and shrugged.

Then, Diana and Shayera both burst out laughing.

“Nice fucking try!” Shayera snorted. “You expect me to believe that Bats is actually Brucie Wayne? I didn’t realize Batman had enough of a sense of humor to lend you his suit, Bruce.”

At those words, John seemed to relax a little, chuckling as well.

“Okay, so I’m not the only one who doesn’t believe this?”

Wally was looking rapidly between Clark and Bruce, clearly unsure what to think. Given the contrast between their serious faces and Diana and Shayera’s chortling, Clark could hardly blame him. 

J’onn was, as always, impossible to read. He had his hands folded gently in front of him and was staring at Bruce. Bruce was staring back at J’onn, and Clark realized they were communicating non-verbally. 

Moments later, J’onn’s voice echoed in Clark’s mind too.

_ Let me in _ , he was saying.  _ Let me in, Batman, let me see that it’s true and I will reassure the others. _

Clark turned to Bruce who was looking at the floor. Clark was sure he was debating taking the easy route and simply pretending it was actually the joke that most of the league thought it was. Clark subtly slipped his hand into Bruce’s and squeezed.

Bruce took that as the reassurance he needed. J’onn’s eyes glowed red, and Clark could see the temporary discomfort in Bruce’s as his mind was read. 

J’onn didn’t really react as the glow faded, and turned to the rest of the team. Wally was chuckling nervously now, still visibly torn between what to believe, but the other three were still in hysterics.

“Batman has revealed nothing but the truth,” J’onn said, his booming voice audible over the others. 

Diana and Shayera turned to J’onn, their laughter fading slowly as they realized that J’onn would not be pranking them. Batman maybe, if Clark had pulled him into it, but J’onn? He was serious all of the time, and was  _ apparently _ more reliable.

“Wait…” Shayera said, meeting his gaze then looking up at Bruce and Clark. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Bruce nodded. He and Clark watched as realization dawned on Shayera, Diana, Wally, and John’s faces. 

Diana looked the most put out, the confusion and hurt radiating from her face settling in the pit of Clark’s stomach. One look at Bruce told him that his boyfriend was feeling the same way.

“I know that I…”

“What the hell, Bruce!” Shayera said, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the rest of them. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

Clark slipped his hand back into Bruce’s, who squeezed him immediately. This was more so the reaction they had expected. 

Clark tore his gaze away from Bruce and looked back to Diana. Her previous emotions had been replaced by something Clark couldn’t quite read. Wally was the next to speak, though nothing coherent came out.

“But...you...we…” he stuttered. “Clark…”

“I’ve only known for a few weeks,” he said softly, looking at Bruce. “And I know you all likely feel angry with Bruce, and maybe a little with me as well. That’s okay. We understand.”

“Angry?” John asked, his tone dripping with something unsavory. “You’ve been parading around the Watchtower pretending to be just a benefactor! You’ve essentially been spying on us!”

“I know,” Bruce said. “But I want you to know, I have not acted or reacted differently to any of you based on anything you have said to me about my other identity.”

Suddenly, and very much to Clark and Bruce’s surprise, Diana started laughing again.

Bruce stared at her, and Clark could hear the incredibly rapid beating of his heart. Diana continued laughing and pressed her face down onto the desk.

“Oh my god,” she said, finally, wiping tears from her eyes. “I can’t believe this, and don’t get me wrong, I’m just as angry as everyone else.”

She turned to John and started laughing again.

“Do you remember… in the gym… you called him…”

John’s eyes went very wide as well, and he looked at Bruce.

“I’m...I’m so sorry,” he said. Bruce looked at him intently, then cracked a smile. 

“I thought it was hilarious actually,” Bruce said, chuckling. “It was kind of hard not to just tell you then and there.”

Wally cleared his throat. “Care to fill us in?”

“I don’t know,” John said, a blush creeping onto his face. “I’m not sure that I should... “

“He was talking about that press conference from last July,” Bruce said, smirking slightly and looking at Clark. “The one that I gave a really horrible speech at because I had been shot with fear toxin  _ twenty minutes before _ .”

John sunk into his seat a little bit, his hand over his mouth. Diana was still quietly snickering.

“He not only said that he was ashamed that Bruce Wayne was the Justice League’s main benefactor, but also felt obligated to add that he was an ‘illiterate fuck.’”

John moved his hand so he was covering his whole face now. 

“He also said that he could, and I quote, ‘eat a fucking can of alphabet soup and shit out a better speech than that,’” Bruce finished, still smirking. Shayera was gawking at John. 

“You said that about  _ Batman?! _ ” she gasped. 

“I didn’t know!” he said, throwing his hands up defensively. “And everyone seemed to think that Batman  _ loathed _ Bruce Wayne, so I figured he wouldn’t mind that much _. _ ”

Even J’onn had cracked a smile at the joke, but as the laughter died down, he brought their attention back to Bruce. Shayera seemed cold again, though Diana was back to the unreadable expression.

“Why now?” J’onn said. 

“Well,” Bruce said, pulling off his gloves and laying them on the table. “Clark came and had a conversation with me at W.E. about how everyone knew that Batman was in love with him, and asked me to stop coming around so much to spare his feelings.”

“That’s actually really sweet,” Wally said. Clark could not get a reading on his emotions either. He was smiling, but the corners of his mouth were twitching as if he was hiding something.

“That’s what made me decide that I had been scared for too long, and that I needed to just tell him.”

Shayera’s stony look softened slightly.

“You were scared?” she asked. “Like, afraid? Of what?”

“You guys,” Bruce said quietly. Clark could tell he didn’t like this. He wasn’t one for sharing emotions, and as he had told him before, was a hypocrite in the sense that he  _ hated _ being under scrutiny. “I hadn’t meant for any of you to find out, but then Clark came into my life  _ outside _ of the league. I already had...uh...feelings...for him as Superman, and as Bruce he wasn’t biased. I could easily let him see behind the gruff and the severity because he wasn’t expecting it to be there in the first place...I have always been convinced that showing my  _ humanity _ , as Clark called it, was going to make me seem weak; like less of a leader.”

“Well that’s about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Diana said, crossing her arms. “But I get it.”

“I know it was irrational now,” Bruce said. “I think most of this time all you guys have ever wanted was for me to show a little compassion.”

“Yep,” John said immediately. The rest of them either verbally agreed or nodded their heads.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said. “When I started to come around here as Bruce...it was the same thing. I could chat with you about your lives without seeming...nosy, or accusational. I’ve learned more about you as Bruce then I ever could have known as Batman; and I’m not blaming you, but I’m hoping you can understand how much those conversations began to mean to me.”

“I told you things,” Diana said, looking at Bruce sincerely. “I told you things about myself that I never would have wanted Batman to know…”

“I know,” Bruce said. “And so many times, I wanted to stop you and tell you that I wasn’t as trustworthy as you thought...but I was selfish. I felt like I had people who  _ liked  _ me, instead of people who  _ feared _ me. I always thought intimidation was the way to go… but as Bruce...you guys, especially Clark and Diana, showed me that I was so wrong.”

“Maybe not when it comes to villains,” John said, smiling softly. “But when it comes to friends, yeah.”

J’onn spoke next.

“I do not fear you, Batman,” he said. “I respect you and your leadership skills. You are willing and able to make tough decisions, and I assumed that this was why you were distant with us; to make those decisions easier.”

“I fear you, Bats,” Wally said, laughing nervously. “I don’t call you  _ Spooky _ for shits and giggles.”

Everyone chuckled lightly.

“So what does this mean?” Clark asked after a moment of silence.

Shayera looked confused.

“What do you mean, what does this mean?” she asked.

“I understand,” Bruce said. “If you feel that I should no longer be a member of the team. I understand that I have broken your trust, and that there should be consequences for that.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Diana said. “You’re not serious, again, are you?”

Clark squeezed Bruce’s hand in relief as she continued.

“You and Clark founded this league,” she said. “You  _ are _ the league, Brucie or not. It doesn’t exist without Batman.”

Bruce’s emotions were written all over his face as he watched the rest of the league nod at him.

“But,” Diana continued. “I’m booking you a ‘training session’ with everyone in the league, excluding Clark.”

“For what?” Wally asked.

“So that all of us have a chance to beat the shit out of him for lying to us,” John said, smirking. “I think that’s fair.”

“Exactly,” Diana said. “I need to get a few good punches in to make up for our interaction in the med bay alone…”

Bruce’s eyes widened and he looked at Clark, who chuckled. He had known Diana wouldn’t be too pleased about that when she realized, and was impressed she was willing to wait for a training session. He voiced this to Bruce.

“I mean,” he said. “Alfred was certain I was going to have to protect you from their violence as soon as you took off the cowl. If it’s going to happen, it’s best in a controlled environment.”

Bruce glared at him.

“You’re literally  _ giving _ them permission to destroy me,” Bruce said. “Will you at least ref?”

“Sure, B,” Clark said. “I’ll make sure they don’t get you too bad. Besides, they won’t do too much damage when I’m around because they know I can school every one of them.”

He winked and kissed Bruce on the cheek. Both gestures were met with snorts of derision as everyone began to pack up.

“Oh goodie,” Shayera said, rolling her eyes. “Are we going to be subject to more PDA now?”

“Oh my god!” Wally yelled suddenly. “Oh my GOD!”

“What?!” Shayera said, looking alarmed at Wally’s sudden outburst. 

Clark and Bruce both looked at Wally, who was now rapidly looking back and forth between the two of them. Bruce smirked and grabbed Clark’s hand, pulling him toward the door.

“I think,” J’onn said, just before they exited. “That Wally is realizing the intimate implications of Batman and Superman’s romantic relationship…”

Bruce snorted.

“And what he may or may not have said about it…”

Clark and Wally both blushed as Shayera, John, and Diana burst out laughing. Bruce continued smirking as he dragged Clark away. They made their way toward Clark’s quarters and Bruce pressed his finger to the keypad.

“Well that went better than expected,” Clark said, smiling at his boyfriend. Bruce unstrapped his cape, then collapsed onto the bed with his arms and legs flailed out.

“They didn’t kick me out, so that’s good,” he said. “Are you really going to let them beat me up?” 

Bruce stuck his bottom lip out in a pout as Clark climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

“Maybe,” Clark said. “We’ll see.”

He dropped his head and pressed a firm kiss to Bruce’s lips. Bruce smiled, and Clark allowed himself to get momentarily lost in his shining blue eyes.

“So…” Bruce said, running his hand up Clark’s chest. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to explore ‘the intimate implications’ of our relationship?”

Clark laughed, blushing again, and rejoined their lips together.

“If I ever say no to that question,” he said. “Something has gone drastically wrong and you need to break out your contingency plans!”

He kissed Bruce’s cheek and moved down his collarbone. He noticed Bruce’s sudden stillness, but kept kissing.

“Clark...do you think I should have also told the league about those?”

Clark pulled away and chuckled, shaking his head.

“Another day, Bruce,” he said. “Definitely save that one for another day.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is very much appreciated. Thanks for stopping by!


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